Home
by Celridel
Summary: A hand was on his shoulder and he looked into his brother's grey eyes. They were glistening. "Well, Muindor, do you remember what Nana called us? 'Sons of the true West.' We are home now." Elladan smiled through his tears. "Yes, brother. We are home." For LadyLindariel.


**A\N. For LadyLindariel**.

He had met her in Rivendell, when she was journeying back with Celebrían and Arwen from Lothlórien. Over the years, their friendship grew deeper, but it was Callothil that first discovered what it truly was. And she had first acted on it.

Elladan had been seated in the aspen grove, trying to coax a few notes from the beech-carven flute when she had danced up to him, grey eyes shining. "Trying to surpass Lindir, aye?"

Elladan laughed. "Nay, nay. His skill is far higher than mine. All I wish to do is simply get a song out of this thing."

Callothil laughed, seating herself airily besides him. "It sounds wonderful. May I give it a chance?"

He handed it to her, and after running a few thoughtful trills, she began to play a wild song that sent the blood dancing and heart beating with joy. Up and down it ran with unworded ecstasy, the notes flittering swiftly, each more beautiful than the one before. Finally she laid it down on her lap. "It sounds better when there are more instruments." she confessed. "But it is a fair song all of its own. Do you know it?"

Elladan shook his head.

Callothil smiled, her voice a murmur. "It is called the Lover's Dance. It is for those who are betrothed at _Lûien-Arnor_."

The Half-Elf smiled, taking back his flute. "That is drawing near, is it not?"

"Indeed it is." said Callothil, her eyes reproachful as she held doggedly onto the instrument. "It is nearly the middle of _Nárië_. I would like it indeed if we could dance that together."

Elladan let go of the flute suddenly. "What?" His voice was a gasp.

"You heard me." insisted Callothil. "Or do you object to me as a partner?"

The flute clattered unnoticed to the ground as Elladan seized Callothil's hands in her own. "No, not all. Not for the dance, not for forever." he said thickly.

She smiled, her eyes shining. "Neither do I."

He learned forward to dare a kiss on her forehead. "Thank the _Belain_ for that, little flower. Shall we go tell the others?"

Callothil nodded her golden head, and they left hand in hand.

And only the trees whispering in the grove had seen it.

 _Twenty years later…._

 _A small, plaintive voice interrupted Elladan's thoughts as he sat by the table, his hands over his face. He looked up to see Arwen, her hands folded together. Her voice was halted with tears. "I'm so sorry, Elladan!" she sobbed over and over. "I am so sorry! Please forgive me!"_

 _"What is it?" he asked._

 _She opened her hands. Shards of marble stood there, and he flinched. It had been a statue, a beautiful image of a morning glory. Vines had twisted their way around, buds half-fledged or flowers full open. And she had made it. His thoughts were ragged. Callothil had made it, made it before she sailed with Celebrían. His head spun, as laughing eyes and golden hair flew in a giddying circle before his eyes._

 _Half in a dream, he emptied the pieces onto the table and brushed off his sister's hands to make sure there were no remaining slivers that could pierce her skin. She was crying again, and it was his duty to comfort her._

 _He hugged her tightly, trying to assuage the pain. Her shoulders were shaking, she was trembling violently as she choked. "I'm so sorry! I did not mean too!"_

 _Elladan shook his head. "It was not your fault, tithen-el."_

 _"But Muindor," she wept, laying her head against his tunic. "It was your-"_

 _"I know what it was." he said gently. "But do not grieve yourself over it. We will see her again, both of them."_  
 _Arwen pulled away, twisting her hands together in a sudden agony of fear. "I know, I know. But what if I do not? What if something happens?!"_

 _Elladan gazed at his sister. "I-I know you have some of the Sight, nethel. But it does not mean everything you fear will come to pass. I know we weep, but it is for the good. They are safe, safe and healing. It is not as if they are dead."_

 _"No." Arwen's voice was thick. "No. Let me tell you why we weep. We weep because we want to tell them something, and they are not there. We weep because we wish to share glad tidings and we cannot. That is the tears fall. We want to hold them, and they are gone. We want only their presence to comfort us, and we are bereft of that. I just want Nana!" she suddenly shouted. "That is all I want in this whole accursed world! The Belain damn the fiends that took her from us! How I hate them!" Arwen turned and fled, and Elladan sank back down, having not the strength to seek his sister. Listlessly, he ran his fingers over the ruins of the statue. It was shattered in many places, yes, but it was not impossible to fix._

Elladan winced and opened his eyes. Now was not the time to enter the memories of those evil times, not with the sea-breeze in his face and the crashing of waves upon white sands. His heart ached still with the memory that his sister would never again see her mother. She was dead now, passed long ago beyond the Circles of the World, and together with Elrohir, he and her children had struggled, still grieving for mother and father, sister and foster-brother. Not even the Sea could wholly wash that away, and the parting from Eldarion and his sisters had been terrible indeed.

He opened his hands. The statue was there, remade. He would show this to her. Now he could see the foam as the surf hit the sand. Almost there. And two figures were standing upon the shore, silver and gold hair blowing out.

A hand was on his shoulder and he looked into his brother's grey eyes. They were glistening. "Well, _Muindor,_ do you remember what _Nana_ called us? 'Sons of the true West.' We are home now."

Elladan smiled through his tears. "Yes, brother. We are home."

 _Belain-_ Válar

 _Lûien-Arnor-_ Time of Sun (the longest day of the year)

 _Nana_ -Mother

 _Nárië_ -June

 _Nethel_ -sister

 _Muindor_ -brother


End file.
